The World is Not So Quiet Here
by antmuzak
Summary: A repost of an old fic of mine, but improved! This is the story of the fourth Baudelaire child, who was inducted into V.F.D at a young age, and is now on a mission to seduce and kill Count Olaf and reunite with her siblings. No Mary Sues- I promise! Eventual Violet/Quigley, Jerome/OC, with hints of Fernald/OC, and possibly Olaf/OC. Please review and give feedback :)
1. The Tempest

**"**_**Here, where the world is quiet;**__**  
**__**Here, where all trouble seems**__**  
**__**Dead winds' and spent waves' riot**__**  
**__**in doubtful dreams of dreams"**_

**-****"****The Garden of Proserpine****"**** by Algernon Charles Swinburne**

**The World Is Not So Quiet Here**

**Chapter One**

**A/N: Hi there! This is a re-post of a Fanfiction I made when I was about 12. It actually did pretty well, but it was in need of a makeover because, well…I wrote it six years ago, and it was…well let's just say it was definitely written by a 12 year old haha. I hope you enjoy, and let me know if you want to read more! It's just something I've enjoyed playing around with, and I think it might have potential. Review! PM me- tell me what you think! Thanks, -Antmuzak**

**_This is a romance/adventure story about the life of Persephone Baudelaire, the fourth Baudelaire orphan. Just a quick summary of her life: she was born to Beatrice and Bertrand Baudelaire but they soon found out that V.F.D wanted their daughter to grow up as a volunteer. At first, they were reluctant, but they knew it was something that had to be done. So she was placed in the care of the V.F.D volunteer group._**

**_Six years later, Violet Baudelaire was born and V.F.D and the couple was overjoyed that they didn't have to give her up! They decided to forget about their last child and never told anyone except for Montgomery Montgomery that Persephone was their child. Even Persephone was not informed until she was old enough to understand. So, for most of her life, she was known as Persephone Gray. The rest will be made clear as you read on._**

**Enjoy!**

I placed one last sweater in my suitcase, and heard a chuckle from behind me. I look up to find my Uncle Monty smiling fondly at me.

"Enough of those?" He teases. I offer him a weak smile in return.

"I was told that my mother wore them a lot," I run my hand along the fabric and sigh.

"Yes, Beatrice was always running around in outfits like that. Though I must say…," he pulls out a skirt to inspect, "I don't remember her hemlines ever being that short," he gives me a mock-concerned look from under his bushy red eyebrows.

I roll my eyes.

"Well, I'm not my mother," I let the words settle in the air. It seemed foreign to refer to her in the past tense. I'd never met her, but I'd always felt a connection with her. I'd only heard about the fire yesterday.

Monty gave me a reassuring smile. He was such an optimist. I was clear that he expected me to be happy too, but, all my life, I could never quite get there. Happiness was like something on a very high shelf; always just out of my reach.

"So what exactly did you tell Count Olaf?" I change the subject, closing my suitcase delicately.

"He's been told that you are an eager young woman who has always wanted to join his _acting troupe_," Monty explained.

I clicked my tongue casually against the roof of my mouth, "Right and…what's my story again?"

"You will be telling him that you grew up in a V.F.D, but then heard about the schism and decided you were on the wrong side. It is a weak story. But, knowing Count Olaf, as clever as he is, his two weaknesses are money and women."

I nod firmly. We don't need to take this conversation any further, and I hope he understands my discomfort.

"So, he suspects _nothing,_ he has never heard of me, and thinks my real name is Persephone Gray. He thinks I am an inheritor to the fictional 'Gray Fortune'?" I confirmed.

Uncle Monty bobbed his little head in affirmation.

"You understand how dangerous this will be, don't you?" he asked softly. We both know the answer. Of course I _understand _it. But that doesn't mean I'm ready. I'm only twenty years old. This is supposed to be the peak of my life.

But sometimes in life you must sacrifice in order to protect those you love. My mission is to seduce, or at least befriend, the infamous Count Olaf and then, when he least expected it, slit his throat. You're probably wondering why V.F.D is sending _me_ of all people to kill such a dangerous villain. I am too.

I nodded slowly, as if processing the information.

"Don't worry _that _won't be a problem for me. I've dealt with worse," I brushed away my Uncle's concern.

No, my dear you haven't. You have _never _dealt with such a vile, disgusting, perverse man before. Trust me."

That makes me feel so much better, I thought, nearly rolling my eyes.

"Alright then, off I go?"

"A helicopter will take you to a spot near his house, so I guess we ought to say goodbye now," Uncle Monty's voice cracked with emotion.

"I'll miss you," I whispered faintly. I lean in to hug him, making sure he can't see my face. My eyes are pooling with tears. Uncle Monty was like a father to me- in fact he was like both my parents in one. The only person I had in my life. I shake the tears out of my eyes. Soon you'll have a whole family, I reminded myself. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny.

"I'll miss you too, my little azalea."

Monty broke our hug, and stood on the tip of his toes so that he could kiss the top of my head. I smiled. He always called me his 'little azalea' because I am named after the Greek goddess of flowers. Not only was my uncle a Herpetologist, but also an excellent gardener.

I gave him a mock salute and lifted up the flap of the little tent that we share. The V.F.D headquarters were underground. Not much was left of the organization after the schism, but what still existed operated in secrete headquarters, like under the tunnels of the penthouse at 667 Dark Avenue.

There was a helicopter landing at the top of the penthouse building. Ike Antwhistle was there to greet me, smiling as I fastened my seat belt, and looked down with uncertainty.

"It's alright, Persephone," his German accent is thick and his words are soft, "you can do this."

"We'll see," I said with a shrug. I acted as though it didn't bother me, but it certainly did. I was risking my life, as well as my siblings. If I made a wrong move, the whole plan went up in flames. But perhaps it would be worth it, like everyone was telling me it would be.

"_How_ am I going to do it?" I exploded, unable to keep it in any longer. We were hovering over the city, and I felt ill. It wasn't as though I hated been in a helicopter before.

Ike laughs heartily, "You can use Various Finery Disguises and Veiled Facial Disguises to keep the Baudelaires from knowing your identity. Help yourself to the disguises I have in that bucket," he nodded to the bucket at my feet.

I rummaged though it, selecting a long, silky veil and a pair of flashy sunglasses. These would be perfect.

I took a deep breath and look myself in the mirror. I laughed quietly to myself. I seem to be playing the part of the villain already.

We came to a landing and Ike gave me an unexpected bear hug.

"We are depending on you, but you are not alone. Using V.F.D codes, we shall contact you. You will do fine!" he assured me. I gulp and walk up to Count Olaf's house. I rapped my knuckles on his door.

It slowly opened.

**A/N: So, what did you think? Is this going to be a good story? Will you keep reading? Criticism is appreciated. Keep in mind, as well, that this is going to be quite AU in some areas in order for the story to work. So if you see something that isn't canon, just ignore it. I made it that way on purpose. Please review!**


	2. The Two Gentlemen of Verona

**"_Here, where the world is quiet;__  
__Here, where all trouble seems__  
__Dead winds' and spent waves' riot__  
__in doubtful dreams of dreams"_**

**-"The Garden of Proserpine" by Algernon Charles Swinburne**

**The World Is Not So Quiet Here**

**Chapter Two**

**A/N: Thank you for your interest in this story! I will hopefully be rewriting the first chapter soon, and making it a little longer/better. Please review and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events, nor any of the characters included in this story except for Persephone. Most credit goes to Lemony Snicket!**

**My face claim for Persephone is Bella Heathcote in the "Dark Shadows" film.**

There was a creaking sound as the front door of Count Olaf's house opened. Half a face peaked through the slightly ajar door, followed by a body. The body belonged to Count Olaf, no doubt. Who else could he be with a face like that?

He crept out to get a better look at me, and apparently liked what he saw.

"And what," he purred "is a pretty little specimen like you doing at my doorstep?"

I straighten up, trying to act professional.

"I'm-," Olaf placed one of his scraggly fingers on my lips.

"Persephone Gray?" he hissed, withdrawing his finger. I nodded and a smirk appeared on his poorly-shaven face.

"Welcome, my dear."

He spread one arm out, gesturing for me to enter his home. I did so cautiously.

When I walked through the doorway, he snickered as though I'd just stepped into a trap. He stood in the grungy foyer, awaiting my compliments. But, what could I say? It was a wreck!

The house was big but rather disgusting. There were very few windows, and he obviously chose not to pay his electricity bill, so it was dark and gloomy. The walls were adorned in peeling wallpaper, there was hardly any furniture, and the house's odor was unbearable!

In the shadows, I could make out his assistants, lurking; watching me. I held back a shudder. Count Olaf noticed my hesitation, and sighed, as though annoyed that I wasn't impressed.

He flicked a spider web off of the ceiling, as if that were the house's only flaw. He proceeded to stomp on the spider, turning on his heels toward me, and eagerly examining my reaction.

I offered him a weak smile.

"So…" I begin. He slicked back his greying hair and clapped his hands together.

"Follow me," he ordered.

He lead me to the living room and sat me across from himself on little chairs, unstable as they were distasteful. He had to shove a bowl of _apple cores_ aside to have eye contact with me. I sat patiently, with my pale hands placed delicately on my lap. He drummed his spiny fingers on the table. I supposed we were waiting for someone to arrive.

The 'someone' turned out to be a man with a long brown trench coat, a matching square hat, and two silver hooks replacing his hands. He had a young, handsome face, with a square jaw and dark eyes.

It is a face I immediately recognized. The letter F formed on my lips, followed by E, R, N, A, L, D. I mouthed his name. "_Fernald_?"

I recalled the memories we shared. He was the step-son of Captain Widdershins, a key member of V.F.D. I remembered when I was thirteen, I'd been helping the Captain and Fernald, who had been eighteen at the time, load boxes onto the Captain's submarine, the _Queequeg_.

I almost laughed aloud when I remember the captain encouraging us to work harder by reciting his motto: He who hesitates is lost. And little Fiona had chimed in "or she!"

Back then, I'd had a bit of a crush on Fernald.

"Hooky!" Olaf cried in frustration. "Fetch me my notebook!"

Olaf shook his head at Fernald, muttering, "Damn bastard, always late".

I stirred in my seat, feeling slightly nauseated by the smell of the house.

Fernald returned and handed Olaf his notebook. Before he left, he nodded towards me casually acknowledging who I was. Olaf didn't notice this brief interaction. He was furiously flipping through his notebook, trying to find the right page. As he skimmed through it, I caught a glimpse of a few roughly sketched eyes, something that _might _have said "J.S", and the letters V.F.D.

He snarled as he scanned the paper. I found myself staring at the ground, confused. There was obviously a lot on my mind. But at the time, I was wondering what side of V.F.D Fernald was on?

I remembered that when he was twenty, and I was fifteen, he'd had a terrible fight with his step-father and ran away from home. Now I understood his anger towards the organization that had claimed the lives of his real parents. But surely he wasn't really a villain. Had he _really_ been affected by the schism, an event that had separated V.F.D long before he and I were born? Or was he just pretending like me?

"Ah ha!" Olaf shouted as he found the page he'd been looking for.

"Now," he started "I have a few questions to ask you".

I take a deep breath, preparing myself to answer each question without hesitation; to sound honest and genuine. After all, though the Count did not seem to be an academic man, he was not unintelligent.

"First of all, why do you want to join my 'acting troupe'?" he rolled his tongue as if the question bored him and been asked many times before. I drew up an answer right away.

"I grew up with my mother and father as members of V.F.D. One day, I came home and our entire mansion was burnt down," I put carefully.

Olaf scribbled down something on his notebook and muttered "blah blah blah. Heard it before."

"I was furious at V.F.D for not being there to save my parents. Then I found out about the schism. I thought the motto 'fight fire with fire' seemed fair enough and knew I must've been on the wrong side of V.F.D. So, I heard of you and…here I am," I throw my hands up in the air with a shrug.

That was the entirety of the story I'd created. It wasn't necessarily original, but perhaps that would benefit me. I wanted to sound like every other person who'd grown up in V.F.D, forced to make the choice between the sides.

Olaf wrote down a few more notes, though I was almost _certain _that he wasn't writing anything of value. He was most likely just drawing eyes all over the page.

"Next question. Why do you think I should accept you into my group?"

I rose my eyebrows and considered this question. I'd done my research on the Count and those who he kept in his employ- though perhaps I'd missed some key elements, considering that I hadn't known that Fernald was one of the Count's followers. But I knew that the Count trusted very few, and those he did allow to join him, all had irreplaceable skills or contributions.

Acting as though I'm unaware I'm doing it, I shifted forward in my seat so that my dress pushes back slightly, showing more skin than Uncle Monty would approve of.

"l definitely take that into account," Olaf's eyes were hungry and pleased, "but I think I shall re-word the question. Have you any experience in…_acting_?"

In spite of everything, a smile came to my lips. I knew he wasn't actually referring to the art of stage acting, but rather trying to asses my skills in relation to his troupe.

"Top of my acting class in university," I winked. It felt odd to wink; foreign. Though I'd never attended any formal education- I'd just been home-schooled by Monty and the others, I had always had a penchant for acting. Shakespeare was my favourite.

"Music to my ears, Miss Gray," Olaf placed a hand on my thigh. My first response was to wonder when the last time he washed that hand was.

I remembered something Monty had been reluctant to say earlier: "You will probably have to do what he says, no matter what his command is."

I fluttered my eyelashes innocently. A surge of confidence spread through me. I could do it; I could kill him. I could save my siblings too- I knew I could. Olaf removed his hand and then, looking into my eyes and capturing my gaze, he stood up.

There was something oddly romantic about him. He's unhygienic and cruel, but maybe it's his eyes. I thought they might have been the only thing I liked about him. I slowly withdrew my gaze from his.

He clicked his tongue and said, "Unfortunately I do not receive the orphans until next week. So, until then, my comrade _Hook _shall be making us dinner".

I felt a pang of sympathy for my siblings, despite their absence. They would have to cook for us. _But don't worry, _I calmed myself _they won't have to endure much of him. He'll be dead soon enough_. _But how long is soon enough? When will I have the dagger at his throat? _

Olaf extended his hand for me to take. I sliped my own hand into his, elegantly. As I took a deep breath and entered his dining room, where his assistants awaited me, I felt like a performer, walking on stage.

_If I'm going to fool Olaf, I will have to _really _act, not just pretend. In a sense, I really was joining an acting troupe._


	3. The Merry Wives of Windsor

**"****_Here, where the world is quiet;  
Here, where all trouble seems  
Dead winds' and spent waves' riot  
in doubtful dreams of dreams"_**

**-"The Garden of Proserpine" by Algernon Charles Swinburne**

**The World Is Not So Quiet Here**

**Chapter Three**

**A/N: Sorry about the wait! I have had so much on my plate and so many other fanfics to update! I'm glad that some interest was shown in this one so I am going to continue it but I still want to update the earlier chapters to be honest because they need some work. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy (and review!) this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events, nor any of the characters included in this story except for Persephone. Most credit goes to Lemony Snicket!**

Olaf was seated at the head of the table, his assistants scattered around the table. It was a long table, so no one talked to each other much. Fernald served us a dinner of pasta with no sauce. It was bland but I ate politely and every once and a while took a peek at Olaf from under my eyelashes which I'd flutter, and then blush. I did this on purpose, of course. And he seemed to enjoy the fact that I was 'flirting' with him.

He ate sloppily and had poor manners, which was predictable. He placed his hand on my thigh again, lightly so I could only just feel it. I didn't respond. He seemed to like that too. My plan was working fine, until we began talking.

"So, Persephone, you haven't told me anything about yourself" Olaf began.

"Uh, well, there's not much to say".

Suddenly, Fernald, who had been glaring at the floor until now, spoke up.

"Are you sure?" he mumbled.

_Oh god, _I think. _Would he dare? Has he become that cruel of a person, that he'd reveal who I am to Olaf? _I hadn't thought of that earlier. But then again, I had been busy trying to impress Olaf.

Olaf snapped, "Shut up Hooky, I never told you to talk. But, he's right, darling. There must be something you can tell me about you? Come on. Hobbiessss, interestsss, friendssss? Hmm?"

My eyes flickered towards Fernald to make sure he was going to stay quiet. Luckily, he'd returned his sharp gaze to the floor.

"I've never had a lot of friends," I dip my finger in some condensation from my glass of water, and begin to trace shapes into the table, "As an orphan, you really have to look after yourself, you know?"

I don't need to glance at Olaf's face to know that he identified with the pictures I was drawing. It helped that my enemy and I were not too dissimilar.

"I mostly kept to myself. But it was in university that I really thrived."

_Continuity is key_, I reminded myself, _you mentioned before that you attended. Keep the pretence going and you'll survive this yet. _

"That's where I discovered acting. Mostly I have a love for the Bard," I elaborated.

"The Bard?" The bald man with the long nose spoke up, "Don't we know him from somewhere, boss?"

"The _Bard_, you idiot," Olaf hissed, "William fucking Shakespeare!"

"Ah. I knew that."

"Yes," I interrupted with a pleasant smile, "Hamlet's always been my favourite."

"Yes, total tragedy. Gotta love a mass death," Olaf grinned. I don't bother to correct that I love _Hamlet_ because of the philosophical questions it posed about life and death, rather than because the play ends in everyone dying. I gave him leave to bask in the thought that I love murder just as much as he does.

Olaf decided to change the subject.

"Seeing as there is _no dessert,"_ he glared at Fernald, "you and I shall excuse ourselves from the table, and I'll show you to your room."

"You and you," Olaf snapped his fingers at the two ladies with white powdered faces, "Clean up this mess."

They scowled but obeyed. The rest of the assistants -a large man whose gender was difficult to decipher, and the bald man who'd spoken earlier- went to skulk in the shadows again.

Olaf lead me through his house until we arrived at two large sets of staircases.

"Stop. See that?" He asked me dramatically, pointing up at the second staircase that was taller and shabbier than the first one.

"Yes."

"Those stairs lead to my tower. You are _never _to enter it, not under _any _circumstances. Unless, of course, the circumstance is one in which I allow you to enter it!" He winked at me. He was quite hysterical. I allowed myself a flirtatious and somewhat juvenile giggle. _Remind him of innosence. You're a tease but you know better than to mess with him. He has nothing to fear._

"I understand. Don't worry, you can trust me."

"I'm glad to hear that," he wagged a finger playfully.

He walked up the first set of stairs, and beckoned for me to join him. It lead to a hallway with many doors, which I presumed were the bedrooms of his henchpeople.

"Here are where the _orphans _shall be staying," he said, pointing briefly towards a shabby bedroom. I didn't have time to observe its contents, but the fact that they were sharing one bedroom, when I'm sure he had two others to share, was enough to frustrate me.

_Calm down, _I lectured myself, _they won't have to sleep there for too long. _We moved onto the next room in line. He pointed one at a time to five individual rooms that seemed just as small as my siblings' room.

"_Those_" he confirmed my suspicions "are my assistants' rooms. And…' he walked along with me to the very end of the hall. "That's your room my dear. It's nothing special."

I believed him. It was probably _far from _special.

I thanked him for the room and gripped my shoulder bag tightly. I almost walked off, but he cleared his throat and I turned on my heel.

"My tower is not where I sleep…So, if you should ever get restless in the night… I sleep on the couch downstairs…and uh," he winked, "I'm a light sleeper."

His eyes were so shiny, it seemed unnatural.

"I'll keep that in mind," I rewarded him with a secret smile.

He rubbed my shoulders and then he held me in his gaze for a time. I felt frozen, suddenly struck with paranoia. _Was he suspicious_?

But it appeared that he'd merely been admiring my my face, for he picked up my chin in his palm and turned my face around, inspecting it. He sighed calmly.

"You are a very beautiful girl, Persephone Gray."

"May I?" he asked sheepishly. I was not quite sure what he wanted, but I was told to obey his every request, and so, begrudgingly nodded. Suddenly he placed his mouth on mine in a passionate kiss.

I was released from his embrace, and stared wide-eyed at him.

"Wake up at 6:00 tomorrow, Persephone. Acting class begins early." He winked and disappeared into the darkness of the house.

I stood and breathed heavily. _It's all worth it for my siblings_, I reminded myself. But _my God_, for a villain, he was an amazing kisser! I felt a blush creep up my neck. I knew that he was a disgusting, evil man. I was simply acknowledging his kissing…skills. I nodded to myself, as if to confirm this, and headed to turn my doorknob.

But I was distracted. I heard something and found Fernald staring broodingly.

"Were you serious when you told me you loved me, two years ago?"

Not sure what to say, I recalled the moment he referenced.

_We were lying under the artificial light of the submarine. Lying on the solid metal floor. All alone. _

_"I'm running away tomorrow" he admits in his usual emotionless voice. "I'm tired of all this" he gestures upward, as if the light fixture represented his V.F.D life._

_I didn't understand then. "I know that life isn't ideal here Fern, but you belong here. Your family is here. I'm here," I sniffled, trying not to act pathetic. It had surprised me._

"_The poem goes 'Here, where the world is quiet,'" he refers to V.F.D's motto poem, The Garden of Posperpine, "But lately, I don't feel like the world is really quiet at all, and that's just the problem. I feel like I'm being yelled at every moment, like I'm suffocating in noise. I need…to get out or I might just die"._

_He was older, more mature, so I should've been in awe of his wisdom, but I was rather annoyed. And that's when I _had _to tell him how I felt. But he'd still left me._

"Well that was a long time ago, I'm older now," I growled.

He shrugged. "Me too, but I choose the right path. Look where you are now. Good luck killing him," he looked at me angrily.

"You look at me like I did something wrong!" I hissed, hoping that Olaf heard none of this. "_You_ left _me,_remember?"

I closed the door on him.


	4. Important Update: Please Read!

Okay guys, this is a very important update/author's note, so please read! I'm posting this to all my Fanfictions so every can know what I'm up to and what to expect in the future.

So first off, I just want to apologize for my prolonged absence from updating. I know that I will go breaks from updating every now and then because I get busy with school or work, but this time was longer for others and for a stupid reason.

I'm a writer by profession as well as a hobby, so I'm used to rejection and criticism. I love hearing back from you guys. Mostly I get positive feedback, sometimes I get constructive criticism, and every now and then I reactive hate. This is fine! You don't _have_ to like my stories. They're not for everyone. They're certainly not perfect. It's no skin off my back. But a few months ago I came across a whole blog post dedicated to tearing one of my stories apart. I don't want to point fingers but if you google "Ophelia Pomfrey" (the main character of my HP fic) you'll probably find it. And I don't want _any_ of you to attack this person. They're just an ordinary person running a blog, and to treat them with the rudeness that they treated me would not be productive.

They made a whole blog post accusing my main OC of being a Mary Sue and picking apart my writing, etc. It was really disheartening to see. Some of you might not know, but I started writing Fanfiction when I was 13. But I actually stopped and didn't get back into writing until I was 15 because I came across a mean post someone had written about my Star Wars fanficiton. Of course that was nearly 8 years ago and, as I've mentioned, I'm used to criticism now. I'm an adult. I can usually handle it. But at the time I was just a kid and these people were _so mean_ to me and about something I'd poured my heart into and really tried hard at.

So that sort of ruined Fanfiction for me. Which was really upsetting because Fanfiction has always been something very personal and special to me: the perfect escape. I've always been a writer, but Fanfiction has always offered something to me in the way of just having fun, making connections and friends (I've made so many over the years), exploring myself as a writer in a fun and (mostly) judgement-free and really being a part of a community. I'm sure you all understand and probably feel the same way! It's always been something light and fun for me. So _no_, my fanfiction isn't an example of my _best_ work. I _can _do better. But perfection isn't what I'm seeking when it comes to these stories. There is so much more to this experience. So I sort of had a bit of a flashback when I came across this blog post.

I suffer from mental illness problems and sometimes things can really affect me in a way that might not affect others so much. I've been really depressed the last year. I feel so much better and stronger now with the new year. I really don't want you guys to worry about me: I'm okay! I'm more than okay, I'm really happy right now. But at the time when I discovered that blog post, it just added to my depression and self-doubt and brought back all that insecurity about myself as a person and a writer. It _did not _make me want to keep writing.

So I took a break from writing and really surrounded myself with self-pity. I felt so bad for myself it was stupid. I should have done what I plan to do now and _keep writing_. Who cares what some random person on the internet thinks? So many of you continue to support me and send me love, respect, and ideas! I appreciate ALL of you! And yes, my writing could use improvement. Some of these chapters were written 4-5 years ago. They need updating, and I plan to do that when I can. But I have tons of cool ideas for future chapters so I don't want to let this disturbance stop me now.

Maybe my characters are Mary Sues...maybe they're simply self-inserts and I'm still just a silly 13 year old girl stuck in the body of a 20 (almost 21) year old woman. Maybe I'm a fool. But this is what makes me happy, and I think it makes you guys happy too. So I'm not stopping.

I promise that when I can, I will work on updating these stories and sharing my visions with you all. I promise that I won't let things like this stop me next time. I owe you all that much.

Looking toward the future: I am going to putting all my stories on Wattpad as well as AO3 so that they are accessible everywhere! I'm also thinking of starting a Tumblr for my Fanfictions so that I can post all your lovely fan art there, my photoshop and video edits, behind the scenes material, ideas, contests, extra drabbles, etc. and have a way to communicate with you all outside of here. What do you think- would you all be into that?

Remember you can _always_ PM me: no matter what about. I'm here for you all in the same way you continue to be here for me!

I love you all, and so do Ophelia, Marina, Sparrow, Nettle, Persephone, Marianne, and Taisie.

-Madeline/Antmuzak

P.S: If you read this stupid write-up the whole way through (or just skimmed through to the end and are reading this sentence), then please leave a review letting me know what you like about my story(s) and maybe what you think I could do to improve! Or just leave me a comment telling me a little bit about yourself :)


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